WEBVTT 1 00:00:08.320 --> 00:00:11.599 I'm not someone who gets scared easily. I loved horror movies. 2 00:00:11.640 --> 00:00:14.359 The scarier the better. I'd watched them late at night, 3 00:00:14.599 --> 00:00:17.679 the house dark, silent, But no matter how tense the 4 00:00:17.679 --> 00:00:20.199 scenes got, I could always remind myself it was just 5 00:00:20.239 --> 00:00:24.719 a movie, just fiction. Real life wasn't like that. At 6 00:00:24.800 --> 00:00:28.600 least that's what I used to believe. That night started 7 00:00:28.640 --> 00:00:30.879 like any other. It was late September and the weather 8 00:00:30.920 --> 00:00:34.159 had taken a sudden turn. The air was cool, almost chilly, 9 00:00:34.200 --> 00:00:36.640 and a storm was rolling in the kind that always 10 00:00:36.640 --> 00:00:39.280 seemed to come out of nowhere as summer slipped into fall. 11 00:00:40.200 --> 00:00:43.159 I was home alone, enjoying the quiet. After a long day. 12 00:00:43.640 --> 00:00:47.039 I had the house to myself. My roommate Sam was 13 00:00:47.039 --> 00:00:49.240 out of town for the weekend, and I planned to 14 00:00:49.280 --> 00:00:52.759 make the most of it. The rain had just started, 15 00:00:53.159 --> 00:00:56.439 a soft patter against the windows that gradually grew louder, 16 00:00:56.640 --> 00:00:59.880 more insistent. I was in the living room, curled up 17 00:00:59.880 --> 00:01:02.840 on the couch with my laptop, halfway through a new 18 00:01:02.920 --> 00:01:05.719 game I'd been obsessing over for days. It was one 19 00:01:05.719 --> 00:01:08.280 of those story driven games, the kind that pulls you 20 00:01:08.319 --> 00:01:11.640 in with its world and characters. I was lost in 21 00:01:11.680 --> 00:01:16.680 it completely absorbed, the outside world, fading away as I 22 00:01:16.799 --> 00:01:22.040 navigated through the game's eerie, haunted landscapes. The first flash 23 00:01:22.079 --> 00:01:24.359 of lightning pulled me out of the game, the sudden 24 00:01:24.400 --> 00:01:27.280 brightness filling the room for a split second before plunging 25 00:01:27.280 --> 00:01:30.680 it back into darkness. I glanced up, noticing for the 26 00:01:30.680 --> 00:01:33.719 first time how dark it had gotten outside. The storm 27 00:01:33.760 --> 00:01:37.200 had moved in fast, the wind picking up, rattling the windows. 28 00:01:37.519 --> 00:01:40.599 Thunder rumbled overhead, a deep growling sound that seemed to 29 00:01:40.680 --> 00:01:44.280 vibrate through the walls. I hit pause on the game, 30 00:01:44.319 --> 00:01:47.519 feeling a sudden urge to stretch my legs. The room 31 00:01:47.560 --> 00:01:50.560 felt too quiet now, the sounds of the storm creeping 32 00:01:50.599 --> 00:01:53.439 in around the edges of my consciousness. I stood up 33 00:01:53.439 --> 00:01:56.200 and walked over to the window, peering out into the street. 34 00:01:56.760 --> 00:02:00.000 The rain was coming down in sheets, the street lights 35 00:02:00.239 --> 00:02:04.879 casting distorted reflections on the wet pavement. The houses across 36 00:02:04.920 --> 00:02:09.520 the street were dark, the windows lifeless and empty. Everyone 37 00:02:09.599 --> 00:02:12.680 huddled inside against the storm. I was just about to 38 00:02:12.719 --> 00:02:14.919 turn away when I saw him. He was standing on 39 00:02:14.960 --> 00:02:18.800 the sidewalk directly across the street from my house. At first, 40 00:02:18.919 --> 00:02:21.319 I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but 41 00:02:21.400 --> 00:02:23.719 then another flash of lightning lit up the sky and 42 00:02:23.759 --> 00:02:27.199 I saw him clearly, a man in a gray hoodie, 43 00:02:27.599 --> 00:02:31.159 standing completely still, as if he was looking directly at me. 44 00:02:31.960 --> 00:02:34.360 My first thought was that he must be waiting for someone, 45 00:02:34.840 --> 00:02:38.599 maybe one of the neighbors, but the way he stood there, 46 00:02:38.840 --> 00:02:41.400 so unnervingly calm in the middle of the storm set 47 00:02:41.439 --> 00:02:44.439 off alarm bells in my mind. I watched him for 48 00:02:44.520 --> 00:02:47.599 a moment longer, hoping he would move, give some indication 49 00:02:47.759 --> 00:02:50.159 that he was just a normal person caught in the rain. 50 00:02:50.680 --> 00:02:54.560 But he didn't move. He just stood there staring. A 51 00:02:54.599 --> 00:02:57.439 cold shiver ran down my spine, and I quickly pulled 52 00:02:57.479 --> 00:03:01.800 the curtain closed. It was probably, I told myself, just 53 00:03:01.879 --> 00:03:04.719 some guy who got caught in the storm, but I 54 00:03:04.719 --> 00:03:07.800 couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that there 55 00:03:07.879 --> 00:03:10.439 was something more to his presence than just bad timing. 56 00:03:11.240 --> 00:03:13.080 I tried to focus on the game again, but my 57 00:03:13.199 --> 00:03:17.280 concentration was broken. I kept glancing at the window, half 58 00:03:17.280 --> 00:03:20.159 expecting to see him standing there staring in at me. 59 00:03:21.000 --> 00:03:23.759 After a few minutes, I gave up and turned the 60 00:03:23.800 --> 00:03:27.400 game off. The house felt too big, too empty, the 61 00:03:27.439 --> 00:03:30.759 silence pressing in around me. I wandered into the kitchen, 62 00:03:30.879 --> 00:03:33.360 thinking I might make some tea to calm my nerves. 63 00:03:34.000 --> 00:03:36.879 The rain was still coming down hard, the sound of 64 00:03:36.919 --> 00:03:40.120 it drumming against the roof filling the room. I was 65 00:03:40.159 --> 00:03:43.080 reaching for the kettle when the doorbell rang. The sound 66 00:03:43.159 --> 00:03:45.960 cut through the quiet like a knife, making me jump. 67 00:03:46.879 --> 00:03:49.120 I stood there for a moment, staring at the door, 68 00:03:49.439 --> 00:03:53.560 my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't expecting anyone, 69 00:03:53.840 --> 00:03:58.120 especially not in this weather. Who could it be? The 70 00:03:58.159 --> 00:04:01.599 doorbell rang again, more insistent time. I slowly made my 71 00:04:01.639 --> 00:04:04.319 way to the front door, my mind racing. It could 72 00:04:04.319 --> 00:04:06.759 be a delivery person, I thought, or maybe one of 73 00:04:06.759 --> 00:04:10.919 the neighbors needing something. But as I reached the door 74 00:04:10.919 --> 00:04:12.960 and peered through the peep hole, my breath caught in 75 00:04:13.000 --> 00:04:16.639 my throat. It was him, the man in the hoodie 76 00:04:16.680 --> 00:04:19.279 was standing on my front porch, his face hidden in 77 00:04:19.319 --> 00:04:21.920 the shadow of the hood but I could feel his 78 00:04:22.000 --> 00:04:25.560 eyes on me, could sense the intensity of his gaze 79 00:04:25.600 --> 00:04:29.160 even through the door. I froze, my hand hovering over 80 00:04:29.199 --> 00:04:32.120 the doorknob. What the hell was he doing here? How 81 00:04:32.120 --> 00:04:34.399 did he get from the street to my porch so quickly, 82 00:04:34.480 --> 00:04:38.079 so silently. My mind was a whirlwind of questions, none 83 00:04:38.120 --> 00:04:41.959 of which had any comforting answers. He didn't move, He 84 00:04:42.040 --> 00:04:45.279 just stood there waiting. I didn't open the door. Something 85 00:04:45.319 --> 00:04:47.439 deep inside me told me that would be a very 86 00:04:47.480 --> 00:04:51.199 bad idea. Instead, I backed away, moving as quietly as 87 00:04:51.240 --> 00:04:54.759 I could, my heart hammering in my chest. I crept 88 00:04:54.800 --> 00:04:57.639 back into the living room, keeping the lights off, hoping 89 00:04:57.639 --> 00:04:59.639 he wouldn't see me. Through the windows. I could hear 90 00:04:59.680 --> 00:05:02.879 my own breathing, ragged and uneven, the sound almost as 91 00:05:02.920 --> 00:05:05.879 loud as the rain. For what felt like an eternity, 92 00:05:06.319 --> 00:05:10.959 I just stood there, listening, waiting, but the doorbell didn't 93 00:05:11.000 --> 00:05:14.920 ring again. Slowly, I began to relax, convincing myself that 94 00:05:15.000 --> 00:05:17.879 maybe he'd gone, maybe it was just some weird prank 95 00:05:18.120 --> 00:05:21.279 or a case of mistaken identity. But then I heard it, 96 00:05:21.600 --> 00:05:24.839 the sound of footsteps, soft but unmistakable, moving around the 97 00:05:24.839 --> 00:05:28.319 side of the house. My blood ran cold. He was 98 00:05:28.360 --> 00:05:31.759 still here, still looking for a way in. I moved 99 00:05:31.759 --> 00:05:34.600 as quietly as I could, trying to stay calm, trying 100 00:05:34.600 --> 00:05:38.560 to think the doors were locked, but there were windows 101 00:05:38.639 --> 00:05:40.680 all around the house, and the thought of him finding 102 00:05:40.720 --> 00:05:43.360 a way in slipping through the shadows while I stood 103 00:05:43.399 --> 00:05:47.680 helplessly inside was almost too much to bear. I grabbed 104 00:05:47.680 --> 00:05:51.480 my phone and dialed Sam's number. He didn't answer, of course, 105 00:05:52.199 --> 00:05:54.800 he was probably out with friends, his phone on silent. 106 00:05:55.680 --> 00:05:59.160 I cursed under my breath, my mind racing through my options. 107 00:05:59.600 --> 00:06:01.879 I could all the police, but what would I say 108 00:06:02.680 --> 00:06:05.680 that some guy was standing outside my house. They wouldn't 109 00:06:05.680 --> 00:06:08.759 take it seriously, not unless he actually tried to break in. 110 00:06:10.000 --> 00:06:13.519 The footsteps stopped, and for a moment everything was eerily silent. 111 00:06:14.120 --> 00:06:17.160 I held my breath, straining to hear any sign of movement, 112 00:06:17.680 --> 00:06:21.360 but there was nothing, just the rain pounding relentlessly against 113 00:06:21.399 --> 00:06:24.360 the windows. Then out of nowhere, there was a loud bang, 114 00:06:24.920 --> 00:06:27.959 a single sharp sound that echoed through the house, making 115 00:06:28.000 --> 00:06:30.519 me jump out of my skin. It was coming from 116 00:06:30.519 --> 00:06:32.279 the back door, the one that led out to the 117 00:06:32.279 --> 00:06:35.959 small patio and garden. I turned and ran toward it, 118 00:06:36.519 --> 00:06:40.000 my heart pounding in my ears. I reached the kitchen 119 00:06:40.160 --> 00:06:42.879 just in time to see him, a fleeting glimpse of 120 00:06:42.959 --> 00:06:45.680 movement through the glass, the dark shape of the man 121 00:06:45.720 --> 00:06:48.800 in the hoodie pressing up against the door. His face 122 00:06:48.920 --> 00:06:51.680 was obscured, but I could see his hands, pale and 123 00:06:51.800 --> 00:06:55.399 ghostly as they pressed against the glass trying the handle. 124 00:06:56.279 --> 00:06:59.759 Panics surged through me, and without thinking, I grabbed the 125 00:06:59.759 --> 00:07:02.680 near thing, a kitchen knife, sharp and cold in my 126 00:07:02.720 --> 00:07:05.160 trembling hand. I held it in front of me as 127 00:07:05.199 --> 00:07:07.759 if it could somehow protect me from the horror outside. 128 00:07:08.319 --> 00:07:10.319 The door rattled as he tried to force it open, 129 00:07:10.439 --> 00:07:14.680 but thankfully it was locked. I watched in frozen terror 130 00:07:14.720 --> 00:07:18.079 as he continued to press against the glass, his breath 131 00:07:18.160 --> 00:07:20.920 fogging up the window. He was close enough now that 132 00:07:20.920 --> 00:07:25.079 I could see his eyes, cold, dark and utterly devoid 133 00:07:25.079 --> 00:07:28.759 of any emotion. For a moment, I was paralyzed, caught 134 00:07:28.759 --> 00:07:31.279 between the instinct to run and the need to stand 135 00:07:31.319 --> 00:07:34.480 my ground. Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, 136 00:07:34.600 --> 00:07:38.079 he stepped back, melting into the shadows. I could barely 137 00:07:38.120 --> 00:07:40.680 breathe as I waited, expecting him to try another door, 138 00:07:40.759 --> 00:07:45.120 another window, But he didn't. He was gone. I don't 139 00:07:45.120 --> 00:07:48.279 know how long I stood there, clutching the knife, my 140 00:07:48.360 --> 00:07:53.040 body shaking with adrenaline in fear. The storm raged on outside, 141 00:07:53.199 --> 00:07:56.279 but the house was silent, every creek amplified by the 142 00:07:56.319 --> 00:07:58.959 tension that hung in the air. Finally, I managed to 143 00:07:58.959 --> 00:08:01.480 gather my courage and make my way to the front door. 144 00:08:02.399 --> 00:08:05.360 I hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened it, peering 145 00:08:05.399 --> 00:08:08.720 out into the storm. The porch was empty, the street 146 00:08:08.759 --> 00:08:12.639 beyond dark and deserted. But as I closed the door, 147 00:08:12.800 --> 00:08:15.839 I saw it, a small piece of paper taped to 148 00:08:15.879 --> 00:08:19.000 the glass at eye level. My hands were trembling as 149 00:08:19.000 --> 00:08:21.040 I reached for it, peeling it off with a sense 150 00:08:21.079 --> 00:08:23.199 of dread that settled in the pit of my stomach. 151 00:08:23.879 --> 00:08:27.600 The note was simple, written in neat, precise handwriting, Have 152 00:08:27.720 --> 00:08:31.040 you forgotten? The words on the note haunted me for days. 153 00:08:31.600 --> 00:08:34.360 I couldn't stop thinking about them, couldn't stop replaying that 154 00:08:34.440 --> 00:08:36.759 night over and over in my mind. The man in 155 00:08:36.799 --> 00:08:40.919 the hoodie, the way he had moved so silently, so deliberately, 156 00:08:41.840 --> 00:08:46.000 and that question, have you forgotten? What the hell did 157 00:08:46.039 --> 00:08:48.159 it mean? I tried to go about my daily life 158 00:08:48.200 --> 00:08:51.200 as normally as possible, but the truth was I was rattled. 159 00:08:51.879 --> 00:08:55.039 I'd never experienced anything like that before, and the fear 160 00:08:55.080 --> 00:08:57.559 had settled deep in my bones, gnawing at me. Whenever 161 00:08:57.639 --> 00:09:01.000 I was alone, I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder, 162 00:09:01.080 --> 00:09:04.080 jumping at every small noise, every creak of the floorboards. 163 00:09:05.039 --> 00:09:08.600 SAM noticed something was off the moment he got back. Dude, 164 00:09:09.000 --> 00:09:12.000 you okay, you look like you've seen a ghost, he said, 165 00:09:12.200 --> 00:09:13.919 dropping his bag by the door and giving me a 166 00:09:13.960 --> 00:09:17.960 concerned look. I forced a laugh, trying to brush it off. Yeah, 167 00:09:18.519 --> 00:09:23.360 just didn't sleep well. The storm was pretty intense. He nodded, 168 00:09:23.799 --> 00:09:27.200 accepting the excuse without question. But as the days went 169 00:09:27.240 --> 00:09:30.000 by he started to pick up on my unease. I'd 170 00:09:30.039 --> 00:09:32.879 catch him watching me, his brow furrowed with concern, but 171 00:09:32.960 --> 00:09:35.399 he didn't press. That was one of the things I 172 00:09:35.399 --> 00:09:38.120 appreciated about Sam. He knew when to give me space. 173 00:09:38.960 --> 00:09:42.840 Then one night I got a call. It was late, 174 00:09:43.279 --> 00:09:45.639 probably close to midnight, and I was lying in bed, 175 00:09:45.679 --> 00:09:49.080 staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. My phone buzzed 176 00:09:49.120 --> 00:09:51.399 on the nightstand and I grabbed it, hoping it was 177 00:09:51.440 --> 00:09:54.559 Sam Felt who was out laid again. But it wasn't Sam. 178 00:09:54.799 --> 00:09:57.440 The caller ID was blocked, just a series of numbers 179 00:09:57.480 --> 00:09:59.840 that didn't make any sense. For a moment, I can 180 00:10:00.159 --> 00:10:02.960 or not answering, but something compelled me to press the 181 00:10:03.000 --> 00:10:07.200 accept button. Hello silence. I could hear nothing but the 182 00:10:07.200 --> 00:10:09.279 sound of my own breathing, the steady thump of my 183 00:10:09.320 --> 00:10:13.639 heart in my ears. Hello, I tried again, my voice 184 00:10:13.679 --> 00:10:17.279 trembling slightly. Then I heard it, a soft, raspy whisper, 185 00:10:17.519 --> 00:10:21.960 barely audible over the static. Have you forgotten? The line 186 00:10:22.000 --> 00:10:25.639 went dead. I stared at the phone, my heart pounding 187 00:10:25.679 --> 00:10:27.919 so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. 188 00:10:28.879 --> 00:10:31.639 I didn't recognize the voice, but the words were the same, 189 00:10:32.000 --> 00:10:35.320 the same chilling question that had been left on the note. 190 00:10:35.360 --> 00:10:38.320 I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't. Every time I 191 00:10:38.360 --> 00:10:41.679 closed my eyes, I saw his face, that pale, emotionless face, 192 00:10:41.679 --> 00:10:44.799 staring at me from the shadows. I tried to tell 193 00:10:44.799 --> 00:10:47.840 myself it was just a coincidence, just some sick joke. 194 00:10:48.000 --> 00:10:51.480 But I knew better he wasn't done with me. And 195 00:10:51.519 --> 00:10:55.080 then I heard it, the sound of footsteps, soft and deliberate, 196 00:10:55.159 --> 00:10:58.200 moving through the house. My blood turned to ice. I 197 00:10:58.240 --> 00:11:01.879 knew those footsteps, had heard them before. I stood up, 198 00:11:01.960 --> 00:11:05.080 my heart racing, every nerve in my body screaming at 199 00:11:05.080 --> 00:11:08.679 me to run. But where would I go? There was 200 00:11:08.720 --> 00:11:12.679 nowhere to hide, nowhere he couldn't find me. I grabbed 201 00:11:12.679 --> 00:11:14.840 the kitchen knife again, my hands trembling as I held 202 00:11:14.840 --> 00:11:18.000 it in front of me. The footsteps grew louder, closer, 203 00:11:18.080 --> 00:11:21.240 until they stopped just outside the living room door. I 204 00:11:21.279 --> 00:11:24.039 held my breath, every muscle in my body tense with fear. 205 00:11:24.600 --> 00:11:29.679 The silence was deafening, the anticipation almost unbearable. Then the 206 00:11:29.720 --> 00:11:33.000 door slowly creaked open, and there he was, the man 207 00:11:33.039 --> 00:11:35.360 in the hoodie stood in the doorway, his face obscured, 208 00:11:35.399 --> 00:11:39.159 but I could see his eyes, cold, dark and filled 209 00:11:39.159 --> 00:11:42.159 with something that sent a shiver down my spine. He 210 00:11:42.159 --> 00:11:45.960 didn't speak, he just stood there watching me, his presence 211 00:11:46.000 --> 00:11:49.120 filling the room with a suffocating sense of dread. I 212 00:11:49.200 --> 00:11:52.159 tightened my grip on the knife, my mind racing. I 213 00:11:52.200 --> 00:11:55.159 had to do something, had to protect myself. But before 214 00:11:55.159 --> 00:11:57.679 I could move, he took a step forward and I froze. 215 00:11:58.600 --> 00:12:01.559 Why are you doing this? I finally managed to whisper, 216 00:12:01.799 --> 00:12:05.159 my voice shaking. He tilted his head slightly, as if 217 00:12:05.240 --> 00:12:10.519 considering my question, then took another step forward. Have you forgotten? 218 00:12:10.919 --> 00:12:13.320 He whispered, his voice low and raspy, like the sound 219 00:12:13.360 --> 00:12:16.399 of dry leaves rustling in the wind. The words sent 220 00:12:16.440 --> 00:12:18.519 a jolt of terror through me, and I stumbled back, 221 00:12:18.840 --> 00:12:22.200 my back hitting the wall. I wanted to scream, wanted 222 00:12:22.200 --> 00:12:24.159 to call for help, but my throat had closed up, 223 00:12:24.279 --> 00:12:28.080 the words trapped in my chest. He took another step forward, 224 00:12:28.120 --> 00:12:30.480 and I could see his face, now pale and gaunt, 225 00:12:30.840 --> 00:12:34.039 his eyes sunken deep into their sockets. There was something 226 00:12:34.039 --> 00:12:36.799 familiar about him, something that tugged at the edges of 227 00:12:36.799 --> 00:12:40.960 my memory, but I couldn't place it. Please just leave 228 00:12:41.000 --> 00:12:44.200 me alone, I begged, my voice barely a whisper, but 229 00:12:44.759 --> 00:12:48.360 he didn't stop. He just kept coming, his footsteps soft 230 00:12:48.399 --> 00:12:50.720 and deliberate, until he was standing right in front of me. 231 00:12:51.440 --> 00:12:54.240 I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever was about 232 00:12:54.279 --> 00:12:57.200 to happen. But instead of the cold touch of his hand, 233 00:12:57.360 --> 00:13:00.919 I heard the door slam shut. I opened my eyes. 234 00:13:01.759 --> 00:13:05.240 He was gone. The room was empty, the door closed, 235 00:13:05.399 --> 00:13:08.159 as if he had never been there. I collapsed to 236 00:13:08.200 --> 00:13:10.519 the floor, the knife slipping from my fingers as I 237 00:13:10.600 --> 00:13:14.159 gasped for breath. My whole body was trembling, my mind 238 00:13:14.240 --> 00:13:16.440 racing as I tried to make sense of what had 239 00:13:16.480 --> 00:13:20.200 just happened. But there were no answers, no explanation that 240 00:13:20.240 --> 00:13:23.039 made any sense. All I knew was that the man 241 00:13:23.080 --> 00:13:25.720 in the hoodie was gone, and for the first time 242 00:13:25.759 --> 00:13:28.799 in what felt like forever, I was alone, or so 243 00:13:28.879 --> 00:13:32.519 I thought, as I sat there, trying to calm my 244 00:13:32.639 --> 00:13:35.480 racing heart. I noticed something on the floor just a 245 00:13:35.519 --> 00:13:37.759 few feet away from where I was sitting. There was 246 00:13:37.799 --> 00:13:41.360 another note, written in the same neat, precise handwriting as before. 247 00:13:42.279 --> 00:13:46.240 This one said something different. You will remember I never 248 00:13:46.240 --> 00:13:49.039 saw him again, but that last note couldn't be more right. 249 00:13:50.360 --> 00:13:52.720 It's been years since that night, and I remember it 250 00:13:53.200 --> 00:14:05.120 like it was just yesterday. I've always found something oddly 251 00:14:05.200 --> 00:14:08.960 calming about thunderstorms. There's a rhythm to them, the way 252 00:14:08.960 --> 00:14:12.320 the rain falls in sheets, the low rumble of thunder 253 00:14:12.360 --> 00:14:14.759 in the distance, the way the world seems to pause 254 00:14:14.799 --> 00:14:19.240 for a moment, wrapped in nature's fury. My six year 255 00:14:19.279 --> 00:14:23.039 old son, Arthur, has inherited this fascination. It's become something 256 00:14:23.039 --> 00:14:25.039 of a tradition for us to sit together under the 257 00:14:25.080 --> 00:14:28.000 gazebo in our backyard and watch the storms roll in. 258 00:14:29.159 --> 00:14:32.720 That night in August started like any other. The storm 259 00:14:32.759 --> 00:14:35.759 had been predicted all week, a late summer tempest meant 260 00:14:35.759 --> 00:14:38.000 to break the heat wave that had kept us all 261 00:14:38.039 --> 00:14:41.120 sweltering for days. As soon as the first drops of 262 00:14:41.200 --> 00:14:44.000 rain began to patter against the windows, Arthur tugged at 263 00:14:44.000 --> 00:14:47.600 my sleeve, his eyes wide with excitement. Dad, can we 264 00:14:47.600 --> 00:14:51.200 go outside please? I smiled at his enthusiasm. There was 265 00:14:51.240 --> 00:14:54.559 no denying him. Sure, buddy, let's grab some snacks and 266 00:14:54.639 --> 00:14:58.840 head out to the gazebo. As we walked outside, the 267 00:14:58.840 --> 00:15:02.600 world was already trans forming. The dark clouds overhead seemed 268 00:15:02.639 --> 00:15:06.720 to swallow the last remnants of daylight, turning the sky 269 00:15:06.879 --> 00:15:10.840 into a rolling, turbulent sea of gray. The air was 270 00:15:11.000 --> 00:15:13.960 thick and heavy, with the kind of stillness that only 271 00:15:14.000 --> 00:15:16.679 comes before a big storm. We made our way to 272 00:15:16.679 --> 00:15:19.039 the gazebo, an old wooden structure at the back of 273 00:15:19.080 --> 00:15:21.720 the yard, nestled near the tree line. It was our 274 00:15:21.720 --> 00:15:24.759 little haven, a place where we could sit and watch 275 00:15:24.799 --> 00:15:28.720 the world turn chaotic while staying safely dry. We settled in, 276 00:15:29.039 --> 00:15:31.240 Arthur munching on a bag of chips while I leaned 277 00:15:31.240 --> 00:15:34.320 back on the bench, listening to the soft rustle of 278 00:15:34.480 --> 00:15:38.159 leaves in the wind. The first flashes of lightning streaked 279 00:15:38.159 --> 00:15:41.320 across the sky, illuminating the trees at the edge of 280 00:15:41.360 --> 00:15:44.960 our yard in stark white light. Arthur's eyes were glued 281 00:15:45.000 --> 00:15:47.320 to the scene, the glow of the storm reflecting in 282 00:15:47.320 --> 00:15:50.480 his wide eyes. Wow did you see that one, Dad? 283 00:15:50.759 --> 00:15:54.879 He asked, his voice full of awe. Sure did, I replied, 284 00:15:54.919 --> 00:15:57.720 smiling at him. It's a big one tonight. The storm 285 00:15:57.759 --> 00:16:01.240 continued to grow in intensity, rain picking up until it 286 00:16:01.279 --> 00:16:05.519 was a steady roar on the gazebo's roof. Thunder cracked overhead, 287 00:16:05.519 --> 00:16:08.440 close enough to make us both jump slightly, followed by 288 00:16:08.519 --> 00:16:12.240 Arthur's giggle of excitement. There was something primal about being 289 00:16:12.240 --> 00:16:15.000 out there in the midst of the storm, yet safe 290 00:16:15.000 --> 00:16:19.559 from its reach. But as the storm raged on, something 291 00:16:19.600 --> 00:16:22.919 made me feel strange. It was subtle at first, just 292 00:16:22.960 --> 00:16:25.200 a feeling at the edge of my awareness, like the 293 00:16:25.240 --> 00:16:27.480 prickle of cold fingers on the back of my neck. 294 00:16:28.240 --> 00:16:30.919 The air seemed to grow colder, and the shadows cast 295 00:16:30.960 --> 00:16:34.840 by the lightning grew longer, deeper. I tried to shake 296 00:16:34.879 --> 00:16:38.360 off the unease, chalking it up to my imagination. That's 297 00:16:38.399 --> 00:16:42.120 when Arthur spoke up. Dad. Look over there, he said, 298 00:16:42.159 --> 00:16:44.240 pointing towards the tree line at the far end of 299 00:16:44.279 --> 00:16:48.240 the yard. I followed his gaze, squinting through the sheets 300 00:16:48.240 --> 00:16:50.960 of rain. For a moment, I saw nothing but the 301 00:16:51.039 --> 00:16:54.279 dark silhouette of the trees swaying in the wind. But 302 00:16:54.360 --> 00:16:56.600 then as the next flash of lightning lit up the yard. 303 00:16:56.679 --> 00:16:59.799 I saw it, a figure standing just at the edge 304 00:16:59.840 --> 00:17:03.759 of the woods, almost blending in with the darkness. It 305 00:17:03.799 --> 00:17:05.880 was a person, or at least it looked like one. 306 00:17:06.440 --> 00:17:08.039 They were too far away from me to make out 307 00:17:08.039 --> 00:17:11.440 any details, but something about the way they stood, so still, 308 00:17:11.519 --> 00:17:16.000 so silent, sent a chill down my spine. Probably just 309 00:17:16.160 --> 00:17:19.440 someone from the neighborhood, I told myself, But the words 310 00:17:19.519 --> 00:17:23.200 rang hollow even as I said them. Why would anyone 311 00:17:23.240 --> 00:17:25.240 be out there in the middle of a storm, just 312 00:17:25.359 --> 00:17:30.480 standing in our backyard. Arthur was watching me, waiting for reassurance. 313 00:17:31.119 --> 00:17:34.480 I forced a smile and patted his shoulder. It's okay, buddy, 314 00:17:34.880 --> 00:17:38.079 Probably just someone passing by. Stay here, I'll go check 315 00:17:38.119 --> 00:17:41.359 it out. I grabbed the flashlight from the shelf by 316 00:17:41.400 --> 00:17:43.920 the door and stepped out into the storm, the rains 317 00:17:43.960 --> 00:17:47.039 soaking through my clothes. In seconds, I made my way 318 00:17:47.039 --> 00:17:49.880 across the yard, the beam of the flashlight cutting through 319 00:17:49.880 --> 00:17:53.359 the sheets of rain. The figure was still there, standing 320 00:17:53.400 --> 00:17:56.960 motionless at the edge of the woods. Hey, I called out, 321 00:17:57.039 --> 00:18:01.160 trying to keep my voice steady. You are right. No response. 322 00:18:01.519 --> 00:18:04.960 The figure didn't move, didn't acknowledge me at all. I 323 00:18:05.000 --> 00:18:07.599 felt a not tighten in my stomach. I was closer, 324 00:18:07.680 --> 00:18:10.599 now close enough to see that whoever it was, they 325 00:18:10.599 --> 00:18:13.880 were wearing something dark, maybe a hoodie with the hood 326 00:18:13.880 --> 00:18:17.480 pulled up over their head. Listen, if you're lost, I 327 00:18:17.480 --> 00:18:20.079 can help you. I tried again, but there was still 328 00:18:20.079 --> 00:18:23.119 no reaction. I took a few more steps forward, but 329 00:18:23.200 --> 00:18:26.440 as I did, the figure turned and disappeared into the trees, 330 00:18:26.920 --> 00:18:30.000 moving so quickly and silently that for a moment I 331 00:18:30.039 --> 00:18:33.440 wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. The woods 332 00:18:33.480 --> 00:18:37.200 swallowed them up, the darkness closing in. I stood there 333 00:18:37.240 --> 00:18:40.559 for a moment, staring into the woods, my heart pounding. 334 00:18:41.400 --> 00:18:43.839 I wanted to follow, to make sure there really was 335 00:18:43.880 --> 00:18:46.920 someone out there, but the rational part of me knew 336 00:18:46.920 --> 00:18:49.960 it was a bad idea. I was already soaked to 337 00:18:50.000 --> 00:18:52.319 the bone, and the thought of stumbling through the woods 338 00:18:52.319 --> 00:18:54.599 in the dark in the middle of a storm didn't 339 00:18:54.599 --> 00:18:58.480 seem like the smartest plan. I turned back toward the house, 340 00:18:58.880 --> 00:19:02.319 forcing myself to walk calmly, not wanting to show Arthur 341 00:19:02.400 --> 00:19:06.240 how rattled I was. As I reached the gazebo, I 342 00:19:06.279 --> 00:19:09.240 found him sitting where I'd left him, his face pale. 343 00:19:09.519 --> 00:19:12.200 Did you see him, dad, he asked, his voice small 344 00:19:12.240 --> 00:19:16.119 and frightened. I saw someone. But they're gone now, I said, 345 00:19:16.200 --> 00:19:19.960 trying to sound reassuring. Probably just someone from the neighborhood. 346 00:19:20.319 --> 00:19:23.759 They must have gotten lost in the storm. Arthur nodded, 347 00:19:23.759 --> 00:19:26.640 but he didn't look convinced. Neither was I. To be honest, 348 00:19:26.720 --> 00:19:30.000 but I didn't want to scare him. Let's head inside. Okay, 349 00:19:30.119 --> 00:19:34.440 this storm's getting worse, Arthur didn't argue. We gathered up 350 00:19:34.440 --> 00:19:36.400 our things and made our way back to the house, 351 00:19:36.680 --> 00:19:40.400 the wind howling around us. As we stepped inside. I 352 00:19:40.440 --> 00:19:42.799 locked the door behind us, feeling an odd sense of 353 00:19:42.839 --> 00:19:45.640 relief at being back in the warm, well lit house. 354 00:19:46.559 --> 00:19:49.640 The storm continued to rage outside, the windows rattling in 355 00:19:49.680 --> 00:19:52.279 their frames, but at least we were safe, or so 356 00:19:52.400 --> 00:19:56.680 I thought. That night, the storm reached its peak. The 357 00:19:56.799 --> 00:20:00.279 rain came down in torrents, the wind howling like a 358 00:20:00.319 --> 00:20:03.599 living thing, shaking the house to its foundations. The power 359 00:20:03.640 --> 00:20:06.720 flickered a few times, casting the house in sudden darkness 360 00:20:06.920 --> 00:20:11.240 before the lights would buzz back to life. Arthur had 361 00:20:11.279 --> 00:20:13.359 gone to bed, but I could tell he was still 362 00:20:13.400 --> 00:20:16.599 uneasy about what we'd seen. After checking on him, I 363 00:20:16.640 --> 00:20:18.799 made my way to my own bedroom. I tried to 364 00:20:18.839 --> 00:20:21.559 shake off the lingering sense of unease, telling myself it 365 00:20:21.640 --> 00:20:24.559 was just the storm getting to me. But as I 366 00:20:24.640 --> 00:20:27.240 lay in bed, listening to the wind and the rain, 367 00:20:28.119 --> 00:20:31.240 sleep didn't come easily. It was sometime in the middle 368 00:20:31.279 --> 00:20:33.400 of the night when I heard Arthur's voice calling out 369 00:20:33.440 --> 00:20:37.000 for me, Dad, come here. I was out of bed 370 00:20:37.039 --> 00:20:40.079 in an instant, my heart racing, I hurried down the 371 00:20:40.079 --> 00:20:42.440 hallway to his room, finding him sitting up in bed, 372 00:20:42.519 --> 00:20:46.279 his eyes wide with fear. What is it, Arthur, what's wrong? 373 00:20:47.039 --> 00:20:51.000 I asked, kneeling beside him. He's outside, Dad, Arthur whispered, 374 00:20:51.000 --> 00:20:55.559 pointing towards the window, the man from the woods. My 375 00:20:55.680 --> 00:20:58.720 blood ran cold. I turned slowly to look out the window, 376 00:20:58.920 --> 00:21:02.160 my breath catching in my throat. At first I saw 377 00:21:02.279 --> 00:21:05.440 nothing but the rain streaked glass, the trees thrashing in 378 00:21:05.440 --> 00:21:09.200 the wind beyond. But then as the lightning flashed, I 379 00:21:09.279 --> 00:21:12.960 saw him, a figure standing just outside the window, so 380 00:21:13.119 --> 00:21:16.000 close I could almost make out his features. He was 381 00:21:16.039 --> 00:21:18.480 taller than I'd thought, with broad shoulders hunched under the 382 00:21:18.480 --> 00:21:21.480 weight of the storm. The hood was still up, hiding 383 00:21:21.519 --> 00:21:24.960 his face in shadow, but I could see his eyes cold, 384 00:21:25.200 --> 00:21:28.200 dark eyes that seemed to bore into me. I felt 385 00:21:28.200 --> 00:21:31.519 a surge of protectiveness and fear all at once. This 386 00:21:31.720 --> 00:21:35.000 wasn't just some lost stranger. Whoever this was, they had 387 00:21:35.039 --> 00:21:38.000 come back, and now they were right outside my son's window. 388 00:21:38.839 --> 00:21:42.799 Stay here, I told Arthur, my voice shaking slightly despite 389 00:21:42.839 --> 00:21:45.319 my efforts to stay calm. I'm going to take care 390 00:21:45.359 --> 00:21:48.799 of this. I didn't wait for a response. I grabbed 391 00:21:48.839 --> 00:21:51.599 the baseball bat I kept in the closet and headed outside, 392 00:21:51.799 --> 00:21:55.759 my heart pounding in my chest. The house felt different now, 393 00:21:55.839 --> 00:21:58.000 the walls closing in around me. As I made my 394 00:21:58.039 --> 00:22:00.039 way to the back door, I threw it open and 395 00:22:00.119 --> 00:22:02.680 then stepped out into the storm. Once more. The bat 396 00:22:02.720 --> 00:22:05.799 clenched tightly in my hands. The rain was coming down 397 00:22:05.839 --> 00:22:08.799 even harder now, each drop like a tiny hammer on 398 00:22:08.880 --> 00:22:12.759 my skin. I moved quickly, scanning the yard for any 399 00:22:12.799 --> 00:22:15.680 sign of the figure. For a moment I thought he 400 00:22:15.759 --> 00:22:18.640 was gone, but then I saw him standing by the 401 00:22:18.640 --> 00:22:22.240